


To Gift or Not to Gift

by Jajajaja



Category: Station 19 (TV)
Genre: Christmas Presents, Developing Relationship, F/M, Family Dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29100477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jajajaja/pseuds/Jajajaja
Summary: Giving someone a Christmas present means something... or maybe it doesn't mean anything.None of this was part of Vic's plan. Not the sleeping with her superior, not the sleeping with him multiple times on several isolated occasions that prevented her from pleading temporary insanity on account of his charming smile and the spicy smell of his cologne, not the feelings that she had in his presence or at the thought of him, and definitely not the part where she was contemplating her life’s choices at 10:30 am on a Thursday morning in aisle 15 of a Target.
Relationships: Victoria Hughes/Lucas Ripley
Comments: 13
Kudos: 38





	To Gift or Not to Gift

**Author's Note:**

> The holiday season may be over, but I believe that holiday fics are needed year-round.

Vic stared at the row of travel mugs, and they stared right back at her. She wasn’t exactly confident in her ability to win a staring contest with an inanimate object, so she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head at her own predicament. 

She had been seeing [well, seeing was kind of a strong word]... She had been fucking [well, it was definitely more than just fucking, even if she had only been able to admit that to herself a few days ago]... Courting, her brain supplied, but this wasn’t the 1940’s and Lucas Ripley was not an eighteen-year-old debutant. 

Complicated was really the only word that she thought well described her... something with the Chief. He was her boss, her boss’s boss’s boss. None of this was part of the plan. Not the sleeping with her superior (especially not the chief of the department), not the sleeping with him multiple times on several isolated occasions that prevented her from pleading temporary insanity on account of his charming smile and the spicy smell of his cologne, not the  _ feelings _ that she had in his presence or at the thought of him, and definitely not the part where she was contemplating her life’s choices at 10:30 am on a Thursday morning in aisle 15 of a Target. 

_ “Ah, fuck!” Lucas exclaimed placing his travel mug on the countertop in annoyance. Hot coffee dribbled down his short beard and onto his starched white uniform shirt. He grabbed the nearest dishcloth and patted at his shirt. _

_ Vic appeared around the corner a moment later, having been alerted by the early-morning commotion.  _

_ “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Lucas said.  _

_ Vic shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I should be leaving anyways.” _

_ “No, please, stay as long as you want. There’s French toast next to the stove,” he said, pointing at a covered plate, “and there’s cereal in the pantry, if you don’t like French toast.” _

_ “Thanks. I like French toast,” she said, uncovering the plate and munching on her breakfast. “Isn’t it kind of weird for me to be at your place when you’re not here?” _

_ Lucas shrugged. “Not really.” _

_ “What if I rob you blind?”  _

_ “I trust you. Plus, I know where you live… and where you work.” _

_ Vic laughed. “Darn, well, there goes my whole plan.” Lucas laughed too. “What happened there?” Vic asked, waving her hand at his splattered shirt. _

_ “Oh, this?” he said, looking down at his chest. “My travel mug is out to get me.” _

_ “Hmm,” Vic said, raising an eyebrow. _

_ “No, really. It leaks like 70 percent of the time.” _

_ “You should get a new one,” Vic supplied helpfully. _

_ “But what about the other 30 percent of the time.” _

_ Vic rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.” _

_ “I have to change anyway,” he said, unbuttoning his white shirt. _

_ Vic checked him out unabashedly. “You know, maybe you’re right. This travel mug might be a keeper.” She grabbed him by his unbuttoned shirt and pulled him close to her. He gave in easily, spending the next moments kissing her lazily before announcing that he absolutely had to go change now or he would be late for work.  _

_ She followed him to his bedroom, and leaned against the doorframe, watching him as he got ready again. She had disappeared by the time he left his closet. He found her in the kitchen, waiting for him with his travel mug full of fresh coffee and the little spill cleaned up.  _

_ He made a move to grab it from her, when she pulled it away. She placed a kiss on his lips before finally handing him the mug. “Thank you,” he said. _

_ “Have a good day at work.” _

_ He kissed her one last time before hurrying out the door. _

It’s just a Christmas present, she told herself. People give them to each other every year. People give them to their colleagues and nobody thinks anything of it. It’s totally normal and it totally doesn’t mean anything. She resolved to buy him the present.

Then, a conflicting thought planted itself in her mind. People also didn’t buy each other Christmas presents and no one thought anything of that either. It was totally normal not to give presents to one’s colleagues. Great! Now, she was back at square one.

“Do you need help finding anything?” a fake-cheery voice asked, snapping her out of her thoughts. The person in red (their name tag read Riley) looked at Vic expectantly.

“Me? I-- No-- I’m good,” Vic said, giving a thumbs up with one hand, which of course, only totally fine and totally sane people did. Riley nodded in assent, hoping to escape whatever weird energy this woman was giving off. “Actually,” Vic said, “quick question. If you were secretly seeing but not really seeing someone for the past two months but also they’re your boss, do you think it would be appropriate to get them a Christmas present? And if so, would a travel mug be too much or too little?”

“Uhhh--” Riley started.

“You know what? Forget I said that,” Vic said, waving her hands and hopefully the conversation away too. “You probably think I’m some hussy sleeping her way to the top. I’m not a hussy. I’m just a huge idiot. Sorry to bother you.” Vic left abruptly, the wheel of her cart squeaking as she made her hasty escape. She was a huge idiot, and she wasn't sleeping herself anywhere except into a stress-induced early grave.

_ “Why do you have a purple refrigerator?” she had asked Lucas after their fourth or so sleepover at his house. She hadn’t had the chance to see much of anything other than his bedroom up until this point. _

_ He shrugged. “It’s my favorite color.” _

_ Vic chuckled, her eyebrows pinching in surprise. “You have a favorite color?” _

_ “Of course, don’t you?” _

_ “Uhhh… not since I was like fourteen.” _

_ “But if you had to pick…” _

_ Vic thought for a second. “Uhh...red, I guess. My car is red. My phone case is red. I’m a firefighter.” _

_ “Exactly,” he said, as though that somehow concluded the conversation. _

_ “You can’t just have a purple fridge,” she said, gesturing at the monstrosity. “People don’t have purple fridges.” _

_ He smirked. “And yet, here I am.” He gestured downward at himself. “A person with a purple fridge.” _

Her shift was rostered for Christmas Day, so they planned to exchange secret Santa gifts during the meal. The fire station was decorated to the teeth. Travis and Andy took Christmas really seriously. 

Their shift had subsisted on a diet of cereal and sandwiches for this entire food budget period, but it was well worth it for the mouth-watering smell of the roast that Dean had been fussing over all morning and afternoon. Jack had tried to sneak a peek at the progress, but Dean’s spidey senses had tingled. Jack nursed a thwack on the head and found himself on the other side of a surprisingly scary death glare from his best friend. 

With Dean taking care of the main event, everyone else had taken on different side dishes. Sullivan had surprised them all by offering to make a pie. It was another step in his slow crawl to becoming comfortable with the 19 family. Vic and Travis had graciously offered to forgo cooking for clean-up duty. They knew that it was the only way to score the best leftovers, but they were happy to let their coworkers believe that they were doing it out of the goodness of their hearts.

They planned to sit down for dinner at 5pm, knowing that there was a great possibility of their meal being interrupted by an emergency. They wanted to make sure that they would have time to pause and resume without staying up all night. Sure enough, the klaxon sounded at 4:42pm, calling away the aid car, and Maya and Dean with it. 

Dean ran out of the beanery with a stern warning about messing with his roast baby, and Andy reassured him that they would wait to eat with them. “Protect him with your life,” he’d yelled at her on his way out.

Maya texted Andy to inform her that they were on their way back from the call, and Andy took it as a green light to start setting up for dinner. The whole crew was sitting around the table when Maya and Dean made their way upstairs. Dean eyed the roast at the center of the table, and Jack teased him about his mama-bear-like tendencies. The meal was great and conversation flowed easily. Once they were all thoroughly stuffed and everything but dessert was cleared away, Travis announced that it was time for presents.

Halfway through the secret Santa exchange, a familiar interloper appeared in the beanery. 

“Chief,” Maya greeted warmly. 

“Bishop, everyone, happy holidays. Merry Christmas,” Lucas said, his eyes lingering on Vic for a moment as he spoke. “I hope I’m not interrupting.” Each of them was holding a present wrapped with varying levels of skill, and it was obvious that they were in the middle of a gift exchange.

“It’s no problem, Chief,” Travis said. “We just don’t have anything for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect that,” Lucas said. “I will, however, take a slice of that pie, if I can.” He pointed at the pumpkin pie in the center of the table.

“Absolutely, Chief,” Maya said, cutting him a slice. 

“Come sit with us, sir,” Travis said, gesturing at the empty seat between Vic and Ben.

He sat down and accepted the plate from Maya. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, sir,” she said. 

“Well, don’t let me stop you,” he said, pointing at the gifts with his fork.

Travis resumed his role as the master of the gift exchange ceremonies. 

“This pie is excellent,” Lucas said to Ben next to him. 

“Captain Sullivan made it, sir,” Ben said.

Lucas chuckled and shook his head. “I should have known.”

Ben said nothing to that.

“Andy, you’re the last one,” Travis said. 

She held the gift up to her ear and shook it.

“Not so rough!” Jack said. Everyone turned to look at him. He flushed slightly. “What? It might be fragile. We don’t know.” Travis gave Jack a pointed look.

Andy ripped open the haphazardly wrapped present and found a small three-part planter with a different colored succulent in each tiny pot. She looked up at Jack and smiled. “Thank you, Gibson. It’s perfect.”

“Merry Christmas, Herrera,” he said.

“All right, that’s it,” Travis said, clapping his hands and sitting down. “Secret Santa complete.”

“Actually,” Vic said. She held up a finger and stepped quickly into the dayroom. She reappeared with a large paper bag. She started lining up several differently colored travel mugs on the table. “I got something for everyone.”

“Aww,” Andy said. 

“That’s very kind of you, Hughes,” Robert said in his usual professional tone.

The people sitting on the opposite end of the table walked over to swoop their presents away, each saying thank you to Vic. 

“That one’s for the chief,” Vic said, batting Dean’s hand away from a purple travel mug.

“My favorite color,” Lucas murmured.

“Huh?” Jack said.

“Nothing,” Lucas said. He grabbed the purple travel mug and rolled it around in his hands. He gave her as big of a smile as he dared in front of her coworkers. “Thank you, Hughes.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

“You got one for the Chief too?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, I got one for everyone,” she said. “Plus, he was our captain for like six weeks.”

Dean shrugged. “I guess,” he said, accepting the explanation, even though it didn't quite make complete sense. 

\-------

Weeks later, Vic woke to the quiet sound of Lucas’s feet shuffling around his bedroom. She opened her eyes to see his figure retreating to the door, and the smell of coffee hit her nose. Hearing her stirrings, he turned around.

He smiled. “You’re awake.”

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and said in a voice thick with sleep, “I am now.” 

He walked back over to place a quick kiss to her forehead. “I have to head into work early, but I should be back home before 6.”

“Uh huh, sure,” she said, knowing that he probably wouldn’t be back until at least an hour later than that.

“I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Sure.”

He kissed her quickly then straightened back up to leave. She noticed the purple travel mug clutched in his left hand. She definitely made the right choice… even if she'd gone about it in a cowardly way. 


End file.
